Konoha Gakuen
by Sasukeluva 4eva
Summary: Full summary inside; Konoha Gakuen has never seen anything alike to what is in store for them when a certain loudmouthed knucklehead rocks up to crash the party! Welcome to the ever prestigious Konoha High, where love is found and friendships are made!


**a/n: Well, the obvious inspiration for this new fanfic came from the second ending of **_**Naruto Shippuden**_**—**_'Michi to you all' _**by Aluto—whilst in the **Gaara Retrieval Arc**; I just couldn't resist the thrall that the high school referencing brought upon! ;D  
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**Alas, I am sure that this (all of these cursed plot bunnies) will soon result in the untimely [but precedential never the less] death of Sasuke-sama, A.K.A. yours truly. **

**–insert sigh here- **

**Well, I digress reluctantly, so that you may proceed in reading as you see fit. **

**Enjoy, I guess. (:**

**Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDHTOS! That is all.**

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_**S**_u_m_**m**a_r**y** (full): _

_Konoha Gakuen has never seen anything alike to what is in store for them when a certain loudmouthed knucklehead rocks up to crash the party! _

_Rival gangs, and enemies easily made, but even the strongest of friendships and romances can be formed in between! _

_Welcome to the ever prestigious Konoha High, and the elusive bonds and antics that are sure to ensue! _

_Main Pairings; Sasuke x Sakura, Naruto x Hinata, Neji x Tenten, Ino x Shikamaru x Temari x Sai Triangle—Side Pairings; Kakashi x Rin, Naruto x Sakura, Tsunade x Jiraiya x Orochimaru Triangle. RATED M FOR POSSIBLE LEMONS, AND VIOLENCE/PROFANITIES!_

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_***~*C**_a_t_**e**g_o**r**_i_e_**s**_; Romance, Friendship, Humour, Drama_

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**S**a_s_**u**k_e_**l**u_v_**a **4_e_**v**a_ p_**r**e_s_**e**n_t_**s_;_**

_**Konoha Gakuen**_

_*~*Multiple Pairings AU Fanfic*~*_

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***~*Chapter 1**

_Uzumaki Naruto is HERE!_

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Heavy footsteps rebounded in the silent atmosphere, the idle crunches of stray leaves and twigs underfoot making the quietude almost eerie; it just didn't feel right, for a place to be so barren, devoid of life and sound.

But then again, that was to be expected of a prestigious high school that looked as if it had been churned out of one of the futuristic mangas that a certain knuckleheaded moron had taken an avid interest in of late; hell, this place could have been constructed on the basis of one of said aforementioned comic strips!

It seemed so unreal to him, one of a poorer background; in fact, the only reason that he had managed to get in _at all_ was because one of his dearest loved ones—and would-be caretaker—had coaxed the Headmaster to allow him admittance through empty threats that only led to pissing the old bag off more than either of them needed.

Even the scholarship taken by academics was too difficult for him to handle!

The only thing he knew himself to be fairly good at was fist-fighting, and that usually took a lot out of him anyways; it wasn't as if he _waltzed_ into trouble intentionally.

No, it was quite the opposite in fact.

It seemed that people just naturally _didn't_ like the air he carried about himself; he was apparently too cheerful and over-exaggerative with his emotions—_touchy-feely_ in other words—than what the other gang leaders would have liked or expected from a fellow fighter such as they.

There would be no fellowship between him and the other rivals anyway, so why should he bother pretending to be everything but what he was already?

It had always been like that; he had never had any friends in all of his seventeen years of life, and although there was the odd carer or two that actually showed/payed him some sort of heed, it still never filled that empty void inside of himself—he yearned, _craved_, for that same acknowledgement, but from those of a younger generation.

Those of his own age and stature.

That was, after all, the only reason he was even _bothering_ to go to the trouble of attending a private school—or school full-stop—when he could have just as easily been causing riots and brawls in the rats-nests of the otherwise elite remote complex.

Which brought him to his current standing outside of the gates of his new school, the name of the facility brandished proudly like a worn-out banner over the very banister of the twin gates, reading _'Konoha Gakuen'_ in proud, emboldened kanji; well, wasn't this... _interesting_.

The blonde's long orange and black cloak was windswept, billowing behind him as he pushed the apart the entryway, the hinged doors not even groaning in protest like he assumed they would as he strode on down the long pathway, the entrance to the faculty looming ahead of him like the Grim Reaper would over his next victim; it hung around the frigid atmosphere like a thick veil of smoke, suffocating in every way, shape and form.

It wasn't as if schooling was unfamiliar to the blonde (his caregiver saw to it that he was provided with the highest degrees of education, ranging from what sort of hentai was proper literature—or could be considered as such—to what types of ramen were the least likely to be cost-effective to his limited pension), it was more like he had never actually been inside of a building dedicated to that specific asset is all; that, and he had never been surrounded by kids his own age either, so it was sure to make for an amusing scenario indeed, when the moment chose to upheave itself.

Which it would, mark his words it would; he would make his introduction memorable, and one that would never be forgotten—it was his promise, one that he had the utmost of respects to abide by no matter the cost.

Striding confidently down the twisting corridors (and covering vast expenses of staircases as he went; seriously, he doubted he had ever seen so many in his life), the mischief-maker gradually made his way to the allocated classroom; now, he mightn't have been the brightest crayon in the box, but he was surely competent—and sharp—enough to navigate his way to the set room, no matter how long it may have been taking him to do so.

The point was, he was getting there, gradually, and would not stop until he had succeeded.

And that was exactly what he did.

Casting awed glances to the high-tech facilitations around him (since he came from the lowest district in town, he had never seen something as amazing as this building before, even from the _outside_ of it), the blonde continued his trek, occasionally stopping to admire the view from the windows that were spread—seemingly—for miles on end down the hallways; when he finally glanced back down upon his timetable (which had done very little to aid him in his quest to find the room he needed to be in, as it read several very different numbers to the ones that had been proliferated around the entire campus; perhaps there was some sequential need for it...?), he realised that he needed to backtrack several corridors before he would have finally made his debut as a Konoha Gakuen student.

Almost smacking himself n the face with accumulated frustration, the blonde haired teen spun on his heel, about-facing straight into one of the steel lockers that had coincidentally been behind his figure the entire time (it was almost excruciating knowing that he never noticed the impartial details until they _became_ partial), a pained yelp leaving his lips as he unceremoniously rubbed his face of the swelling red flesh, low curses spilling forth under his breath as he muttered unintelligibly to himself, glaring at the sneakers on his feet—rugged old skate shoes, that he would have to replace when he found the amount of money necessary to do so—as he shuffled down the hall, taking two lefts and a final right, only to stop when he read the desired number.

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_Faction 7—K.G's best and brightest, with a mixture of lower levelled students; selections are based upon the needs of the student, to aid in the progression of the less gifted pupils, academics-wise, through constant social interaction with the higher achievers_.

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More like snooty suck-ups with no lives outside of their textbooks.

Almost grinning at the thought—instead replacing the expression with an indignant scowl, noting that his I.Q. had been rated as an _'in substantial need of time and assistance in his studies'_ (not that he didn't already know it himself, but still, wasn't school there to encourage others to _want_ to achieve as much as they possibly could, and not indirectly insult them and their less dignifying qualities as if it were a normal everyday occurrence?)—the blonde brushed his hands hesitantly over the pendant that hung loosely from his neck, almost as if seeking assurance and comfort from it, before he straightened, tucking the now crumpled sheet of paper (that could have been in its past life considered a timetable) into his pants pocket before sucking in a calming breath, his figure fully erect as he clamped his hand to the doorknob, and threw it open without second thought, silence immediately engulfing the room.

Whispers were exchanged briefly between friends and group pests, all clambering over the rather unexpected arrival of a boy they had never seen before, things along the lines of "Is that the new guy?" and "Wow, he's definitely a cutie!" leaving their lips; he missed none of it, the grin on his face slowly stretching, enunciated with each movement he made to the very back of the teacher's desk (whom happened to be nowhere in sight), his cerulean orbs ablaze with cocky self-belief and buoyancy as he gazed out at the other kids his age; one in particular captured his unwavering attention.

A young man, roughly his age, if not a little older, was gazing back at him apathetically, absolutely no expression whatsoever on his void face as he awaited the blonde's next move, his onyx depths piercing, as if almost anticipating what was to come; indeed it seemed that he had already read him like a book, and come to those very same conclusions that everyone else had before him—after all, _they_ were all the same, each and every one of them, drones that were apparently offended by his very presence, like he was some lingering foul odour that would never leave them in peace.

Well not today.

He was going to make friends for sure, and he was going to do it by being himself, regardless of what they would eventually make of him in future.

Without warning, the blonde haired mischief-maker raised his tanned hands above his head, slamming them down on the front desk so as to invite everyone's undivided attention towards him, their jumps of fright (all except for _that_ _guy_) at the sound he had produced with the action amusing him somewhat as he leant forward, that same confidence never leaving him as he burnt his first impression into all of their minds.

"Uzumaki Naruto is _HERE_, ready and kicking for action! It's nice ta meet'cha!"

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**a/n: Well, if you haven't already figured it out, yes, this fic will contain all of the POVs, from characters other than Naruto; I cannot possibly build upon the foundations of separate relationships (like Sasuke x Sakura) if I am only in one character's POV for the entirety of the story! DDX  
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**So please look out for that! (: **

**Some of my information will and or **_**may**_** be gathered from the official **_**Konoha Gakuen**_** manga, just to make the sequences fit, so watch out for that also (if you are an avid reader of it. LOL xD)! :D  
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**I KNOW that this was probably the most **_**boring**_** chapter in the history of chapters, but sometimes they are necessary to help build the character of further instalments! **

**Please do not let this deter you from reading on, or Sasuke-sama will be very sad. DDX T-T  
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**Speaking of, if you really, truly, very much so love me (please?), pleasepleasepleasePLEASE review for me! I would love to hear feedback, and whether or not I should continue this or give up on the idea altogether (no flamers welcome thank you; as the saying goes,**_** 'If you have nothing nice to say, FUCK OFF and say it somewhere else!' **_**xD). **

**Until next time then! **

**Ja ne! x)**

***-Sasukeluva 4eva out-***


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